Hatred with a Smile
by CityBS
Summary: A collection of warlord character studies, examining possible ways in which they could've become the men that we see in the series as concocted by the crazy author. Rated T for a bit of bloody gore.


_AN: Oooh, this was a FUN one to write. It's historically accurate, as far as I know, but the whole deal with Naaza's past is born entirely of my own twisted mind. This is my take on how he became the crazy warlord we all know and love today. Reviews make me happy, you childrens, and I need to know which warlord you want me to do next! I don't own the warlords... but I sure as hell wish that I could.  
_

NAOTOKI YAMANOUCHI

The green-haired young man adjusted his armor in a way that might seem almost fretful to those who didn't know him. However, the simple action made the other soldiers in his regiment grow uneasy. Noticing this, the warrior smirked. The petty sons of petty nobles were put into this front-line group to grow some backbone under his hard tutelage – he, Yamanouchi Naotoki, was expected to whip the boys into some sort of semblance of grown men.

In this time of war, during the Azuchimomoya Ma Era, Naotoki had grown to prominence along with the rest of his warrior clan. Though his family's prestige was still small, great promise was being shown in his uncle, Yamanouchi Kazutoyo, who was fighting with the great general Toyotomi Hideyoshi. On the other hand, Naotoki was growing revered at an almost frightening rate, and he was feared as a nearly unstoppable killer when on the battlefields that had sprouted from the outcome of the Onin War.

So what if the government fell? It was a picture-perfect opportunity for him to improve his skills and work off some frustration while watching men die. Naotoki's dark eyes narrowed dangerously as a trembling recruit from some nowhere town near Kyoto. Hmm. Toshi-something. Red hair. The boy was indeed unusual, but his stubborn beliefs in foolish concepts of honor made him a liability in the harsh battles of the war. At least he wasn't a _Christian._

Pah! The mere thought of that ridiculous cult made Naotoki's teeth grind. He snapped the reins out of the younger soldier's hands and gave them a jerk, pulling the frightened horse closer before hopping onto the animal's back. As the horse reared in terror, Naotoki gave it a sharp blow to the hindquarters with the butt of his katana.

Naotoki threw his hand forward, still holding his katana, and surveyed the battlefield. The enemy troops seemed to be evenly matched with their allies… perhaps they could even win that battle and threaten his position. Naotoki narrowed his eyes – that could not be allowed to happen.

---

_A small boy ran into his family's shrine, hastily kicking off his sandals and bowing to the shrine itself before running onward. He burst out the back door of the shrine and scampered down the pathway towards his family's gardens, where he could already see his goal waiting - Keiko._

_He smiled as he reached her, the only young woman around his age in their fief who would willingly spend time with him. Everyone else claimed he was 'tainted'. She giggled and waved her ornamental fan at him and he gave another bow, this one nearly down to the stones set into the path._

---

As usual, Naotoki led the charge down the hill towards the bloody field on which the other soldiers were fighting. Knowing that to follow risked death but also knowing that to stay would ensure it at their leader's hands, the young noblemen under the warrior urged their own mounts down the slope, thundering after the man in the red and green armor.

Naotoki felt like he was in the afterlife, being rewarded by his ancestors for all of his hard work. The battle, to him, seemed to last forever, prolonging his pleasure as he watched his magnificent sword slash through throat after chest after shoulder, his enemies cowering and falling in front of his vicious assault. Those lucky enough to escape his wrath were quickly cut down by his so-called troops.

Surprisingly enough, the child from Kyoto wasn't doing all that badly. However, Naotoki didn't let it distract him from his personal battle, since he was going after a specific man. A man who still haunted his dreams and his every waking moment, a man whose life simply could not be allowed to continue. Snarling viciously and baring a pair of almost fanglike teeth, Naotoki kicked his horse harshly in the side, spinning it around towards the other direction.

"Yamanouchi-san!"

Naotoki glanced over his shoulder and saw the Kyoto-soldier struggling with a pair of enemy samurai. He smirked. "You handle it, boy. I'm going to go finish this battle."

---

_Time had gone on, for the seasons had never stopped at a mere mortal's whim. The young boy had grown and the girl had too, until both of them were considered ripe for marriage and the boy ready for a full-time career on the battlefield beside his relatives. Ignoring this, the two of them still managed to find time for each other, and met in the shrine's gardens at least once every week._

"_Do you think your father will allow us to marry?" asked the boy one day. The girl's eyes clouded slightly and she looked down into the pond beneath the bridge they stood on, just watching the goldfish swim for a few moments. "He says I may only marry a great warrior or a great statesman, and you are not yet either of those things."_

_The boy frowned, then put an arm around the girl's shoulders in a gesture of comfort. "Do not worry, Keiko. If you wish it of me, I will make it so."_

---

Where was the coward? Naotoki cut through rank after rank of enemy soldiers, the lines breaking beneath his fury. As the warrior finally broke through, he caught sight of a thin, ratlike man astride a charger far too fine for his family. _There!_

Upon catching sight of Naotoki, the scrawny commander turned his horse and began to flee. Hooves pounded across the ground as Naotoki urged his own battle steed on in hot pursuit, guiding the terrified animal's steps with one hand while he raised his sword up with the other. His vision became a tunnel of red as he focused on his prey. He was almost there.

---

_He was always running to Keiko, but this time it wasn't out of happiness. He had seen it all happen from his guard post, and all he could do was pray that it wasn't too late. The boy jumped, caught hold of the burning edge of a priceless tapestry, and swung into the wooden screen separating him from Keiko's rooms. He crashed into the girl's chambers and rolled around on the floor, trying to put out the fires that had caught on the edges of his tunic._

_Suddenly, he stopped rolling and just stared ahead, into the glazed eyes of his beloved as she lay on the floor beside him. Bleeding. Pale. So pale. A sword was driven through the center of her back, pinning her limp body to the floor, and in that moment the boy knew she was dead._

_Rage filled him. A rage he had never known before, and had never thought himself possible of feeling. A rage everyone accused him of hiding because of his appearance and his reputed heritage from some sort of viper clan. The boy decided to embrace the anger. He slowly got to his feet and pulled the sword out of the back of his dead beloved, examining the familial crest embossed on the hilt._

---

Haruko was running out of places to run and to hide. Everywhere he turned, that damnable Yamanouchi boy met him and started to charge. His only hope was making it back to the main portion of his general's army, and so on he rode. His horse was faltering – Haruko looked down and saw that the end of a spear was embedded into the animal's right flank. When had _that _happened?

He heard hoofbeats and turned about to look behind him, ignoring his horses shrill whinnies of protest. Yamanouchi was still after him! He was getting _closer!_ All reason flying to the winds, the formerly confident nobleman urged his half-dead horse onwards with even more speed.

When Haruko turned his body towards the horse's head once more to look where he was going, he saw death.

---

The young soldier from Kyoto had hidden himself in the rocks of the pass where most of the surviving enemy forces had fled, waiting to pick off stragglers. He was cut, bruised, and bleeding, but he was still able to fight. He felt a thrill of… something… go through him as the blade of his kusari gama took the enemy leader's head right off. He had done an important deed, and he was proud… but the sight of the headless rider's body falling off of the dying horse wasn't the image of glory he had always sought.

He turned to look down the pass as the rumble of hoofbeats grew louder, readying himself for any more soldiers that were heading his way. He could always contemplate the meaning of his life later, perhaps in a nice bath if he was lucky enough. He despised being dirty, after all.

Surprise overtook him as he saw his own commander's horse charging down the narrow road, with a nearly psychotic commander atop it. Naotoki's eyes flicked from the young redheaded soldier to the body and the head of his sworn enemy, tightening his grip on the sword clenched in his armored fist and grinding his teeth in utter anger.

"You! What have you done!" he demanded of the nervous-looking boy. The recruit's expression quickly shifted to one of belligerence. "I have killed the enemy, Yamanouchi-san. I was under the impression that it was the point of this battle,"he snapped. Naotoki removed his helmet and stared at the younger soldier, causing him to pale and back up a few steps, reconsidering his words a few moments too late.

"Idiot boy. You've stolen my revenge, and I shall take it out on your hide!"

---

Naotoki cradled his head in his hands, sitting alone on the cold stone floor of the prison in which he was being kept. How was _he_ supposed to have known that the brat was a Koma? It's not as if they even _told_ him.

Ah well. It had been satisfying to beat the boy senseless after all of the frustration he had been feeling at having his chance to slay Keiko's murderer. Still, awaiting a death sentence in a damp cell wasn't exactly his idea of a good time, especially when compared with the battles that were still being waged outside his cell.

One surprising thing about his prison, though, was that there were no rats. He had discovered the reason for that during the first few days, when something made a dry, rustling noise and slithered over his legs. The general's dungeons were infested with snakes… but the serpents seemed to enjoy his company. Naotoki even felt that, sometimes, the reptiles could understand what he was saying when he spoke to them to relieve his boredom.

A snake coiled itself lightly around his shoulders, and Naotoki looked over at it. It was the first one he had seen, and he had grown rather fond of it. He had even named her Keiko. He put out a few slender fingers to stroke the snake's head, leaning his torso back against the damp wall behind him.

_Yamanouchi Naotoki._

He sat up with a start, eliciting a peevish hiss from Keiko, and stared around the cell. "Who's there?"

_Yamanouchi Naotoki, descendant of snakes._

Naotoki narrowed his eyes and pushed himself to his feet. As he stared into the gloomy darkness of the dungeon, nothing leaped out to attack or made its presence known, aside from the strange voice that was reverberating as if had come from the back of his head.

_You wish revenge, and your heart is stained with blood and rage._

The green-haired warrior resisted a snort. As if that was a little-known fact about him. Still, the voice was making him rather uneasy… and left him fearing even more for his admittedly fragile sanity. What could it hurt to answer himself? "Yes, I would enjoy exacting revenge from those who have wronged me."

_Good. In return for your vow of allegiance and servitude, I will give you a new life and a new name. I will give you power the likes of which neither you nor your mortal family have ever dreamed of gaining._

Though still wary, Naotoki gave a slight nod. "Very well. That sounds like a reasonable trade," he murmured. On his shoulder, Keiko swayed her head slowly back and forth, slipping out a black tongue to taste the air every few seconds.

A chuckle echoed through his skull, and he suddenly found his tattered robes gone – no, not gone, replaced – by a strange layer of armor. _You will serve me well, Naaza._

Naaza… so that was to be his new name. The last thing that Naotoki heard as a mortal was that hollow-sounding laughter.

---

The general's palace lay in burning ruins. The bodies of his family and his soldiers littered the palace courtyard like discarded pieces of worthless armor, each body melted beyond recognition by the acid that had been brutally forced into their blood with each swipe of the six wicked katanas wielded by the Tainted One, the maniac that the general had locked up in the cavernous dungeons of his estate.

By the morning, there was nothing left of the general or his lands except mile after mile of barren, desiccated land that had wilted under the furious power of the dark samurai's newfound powers. And, standing on a hill that overlooked the still-smoking remains of the palace, was Naaza, a cruel smile curling about his lips and a black and green serpent draped over his armored shoulders.

---

"_I'm going to be the greatest warlord of our family, father. You'll see."_


End file.
